Boarding that last flight out, helping wrangle my wee Scorpio Mum’s suitcase, a wheeled carry-on backpack thing, I wrestled the baggage and my little mum, all down the line, and once the plane took off?
Flight attendant came by, “Something to drink?”
“Coffee, black, please.”
Attendant glanced at me wee Scorpio mum, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like something stronger? Cocktail, beer, wine, something?”
I demurred.
“It’s complimentary, no, really, it is. I’ll get you a drink.”
No, but thanks for asking.
Begs the question, traveling with my mother, it looks like I do, indeed, need a drink?
“You’re not going to write about that, are you?”
If you don’t drink as a regular rule, then it would be irregular…